Mr Brightside
by jesusfoodsex
Summary: Dean/Cas slash; "Castiel really had no explanation for what he was doing there, other than that feeling of wanting to see Dean, but he couldn't tell Dean that. Angels weren't exactly allowed to get what they wanted."


I don't know what I'm doing. This is smut?

Spoilers up to 6.11

**Mr. Brightside**

The first time Dean takes a woman to his bed since Lisa, he's not entirely sure it's to get back at Lisa in some way. Even Sam, without his soul, could sense the tension surrounding the whole Castiel and Meg thing.

Dean found himself taking this random, drunk, dark-haired secretary to his motel room, leaving Sam the Impala and a warning, and half-heartedly kissing her clothes off.

Castiel watches darkly from outside. He knows Dean would be mad - would call him a "stalker" or "creepy" - but he doesn't care. He doesn't even bother to hide. Things get even more heated inside and he has to look away. He gently leans against the window and slides down to the ground and out of sight of the window.

He shouldn't be able to care. He couldn't care for the torture he put a human child through, nor this whole 'Sam has no soul' thing, but somehow when it comes to Dean, Castiel can feel things. Jealousy and want, usually. These feelings are as vivid as the days when he was human.

He stole away, to the bar where Sam remained - drinking and hitting on a nice blonde - intent on drowning these feelings in any way possible, and as he remembered from his previous time on earth with the Winchesters, alcohol was a great place to start.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

He never did like hangovers, and it didn't make fighting the Whore of Babylon any easier, but it damn near cost him the war upstairs. Raphael's followers caught the drop on him early this morning but he made it out okay. Four of his brothers did not.

There was no room for such carelessness.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Sam had prayed to him while his soul was being injected into him. He prayed inwardly for hours. Dean prayed after Death had left for a good hour. It was all fairly annoying. Especially when they had a lead on where Raphael's new vessel was located. It was hard to ignore the Winchesters, but this was important. As soon as he could, he left one of his brother's in charge, and went to them.

Sam kept apologizing for how he acted. He knew bits and pieces of what he had done since he was back from hell. His most recent interaction with Castiel was at the forefront. He just nodded in acknowledgment of the apologies, but he didn't care. Sam was his friend, and he wasn't himself at the time. Did it really need to be said?

Dean was much quieter, almost as if he was expecting Sam to go postal at any moment. Postal or withdrawn. Something. Castiel could read him, even without being up in his personal space and in his mind.

Sam finally stopped chatting away about it when it became apparent Cas was not going to respond. That and he was staring at Dean, head tilted like he was trying to figure him out.

Castiel hadn't felt this way since he met Dean. _"You don't think you deserve to be saved." _He understood. He understands Dean better now. Dean not only thinks he doesn't deserve to be saved, but that he can save everyone. No one should feel that burden.

He didn't hear Sam excuse himself, but he felt the human leave the room. Dean was now staring back at him, a hardened expression on his face.

"Dean," he heard himself say. He had no idea where he was going with it, and it felt heavy, loaded on his vessel's tongue.

Dean let a smirk slide across his face, "Cas."

After about a minute, when it becomes apparent that Castiel had nothing to say, Dean turns away, his smirk morphing into a bitter smile.

"Why're you here, Cas? And don't say its because I called. You've only been coming when you want something, and clearly, we don't have anything."

Castiel looked up at the ceiling. He didn't have an answer. He had no reason at all to come. The boys telling him that Sam was restored was enough, especially since nothing was wrong with him. Part of him naggled that he wanted to see Dean. He pushed that thought down, and lowered his gaze to meet Dean's again. He decided no answer was a good answer.

Wrong.

"Seriously, Cas? I mean, it's great to see your face and all, but you're not even going to give a reason why you're here now when it's like pulling teeth to get you here when we need you for something? When you usually puff up and say, 'I've got shit to do.'"

Wrath was another emotion that Dean usually pulled from him. He was normally a much more gentle soldier, until this war he was waging in Heaven. Dean may be his favorite human, but he was so... _insolent_. He opened his mouth to defend himself, his war, again.

"_It's important_, I know." Dean had cut him off. Castiel watched him stand up from his seat on Bobby's couch. The old man and the young Winchester were outside in the junkyard, he could sense them.

Dean sighed. "It's just..."

Castiel waited. And waited. "It's just what, Dean?"

"Nothing." Castiel couldn't help but notice how Dean would not meet his eyes.

He hated prying in Dean's mind, after Dean had yelled at him so long about it. That was back when he knew so very little about humans, about Dean. However, his curiosity got the better of him, and he drew closer to the Winchester, and peered into his mind.

"Stop that!" Dean yelled, once he had figured out what Castiel was doing.

Nothing. Dean had caught him too quickly for him to see.

"Then tell me."

"You tell me why you're here!"

They glared at each other for a moment. Castiel had the patience to stand there all day, but he didn't have the time.

"I don't know."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "You don't know? Are you kidding me?"

"Dean, you know I do not 'kid.'"

Castiel really had no explanation for what he was doing there, other than that feeling of wanting to see Dean, but he couldn't tell Dean that. Angels weren't exactly allowed to get what they wanted. Then again, Balthazar did tell him he reshaped the mold.

And then, even if he did tell Dean, he was certain nothing good would come of it. He knew Dean's conceptions about gender and wants. And he knew exactly what he wanted. This new closer proximity wasn't helping.

Dean was staring at him, a look of consternation on his face, as if he were trying to figure Cas out. A wave of humor flooded through Castiel at the thought.

"So, you really came down here just to see me?"

Humor gone, Castiel was being called out, and he couldn't fight back. Dean had a sparkle of humor in his tone, as if he was toying with an idea that Cas couldn't see in his eyes. Castiel could sense other feelings radiating from Dean, but he was distracted by his panic at Dean discovering he own feelings. The ones the angel was not supposed to be having.

His search for a lie of some sort left him open and vulnerable, and he did not expect the soft press of lips on his. He snapped his eyes open and at Dean, who was sure enough pressed to his face. He didn't pull back, and let Dean deepen the kiss before he panicked again. This was not supposed to happen, no matter how much he wanted it.

He left Dean kissing air.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Castiel's feeling started long before he knew what feelings were. He now recognized the feeling of comfort of being with Dean in that park so long ago when he shared his doubts. He also recognized the cold stab of jealousy when he witnessed the farewell kiss that Dean gave Anna. Dean made him - an angel - feel, something that was thought impossible.

And because of this, Castiel decided to rebel, to break apart from the host and save humanity. All because one human deemed it worth saving. The human he himself had pulled from Hell.

He could hear Dean praying to him, almost a constant stream of thought since he left him mid-kiss. If it was annoying when he was praying with Sam, it was unbearably distracting now.

He and his brothers were currently holding hostage the family whose line of blood contained Raphael. They didn't want him to take a vessel. Other brothers were trying to get Raphael's followers to switch sides. Sometimes he tried to persuade them. It usually didn't pan out, but every now and then he was able to get one of his brothers to listen.

Castiel was able and content to continue in this manner, until Sam prayed. It had been several weeks since he'd seen the Winchesters, since Dean kissed him. Dean still prayed intermittently, and he always heard every word, even though he was trying to focus elsewhere. Sam actually prayed for Dean. Something was wrong with his brother, and Sam Winchester knew that Castiel was involved.

He secured the location of the family of vessels, and left to where he felt Sam. He was alone in a motel room somewhere in Washington. Sam was seated on the edge of one of the beds.

"Where's Dean?"

Sam sighed, standing up, "Bar maybe? He took off about an hour ago after I tried to get him to talk about what's been up with him lately."

Castiel furrowed his brow, "What has been up with him?"

"I'm not sure," Sam shrugged. "At first I thought he was just being weird around me since I got my soul back. Then I noticed he was acting weird in general. Like, I caught him mumbling in his sleep last night, something that sounded like a prayer."

"He has been praying," Castiel said simply.

"Really?" Sam's eyebrows arched high.

He nodded.

"What's he been saying?"

Castiel rubbed the back of his neck, something he remembered too late was a nervous habit. "I believe that it is a personal matter."

After a moment, Sam's eyes sparked something like realization, and he nodded, "Okay."

They stood in silence for a minute. Castiel hoped Sam would drop this investigation, but he knew the younger Winchester had a huge thirst for knowledge, and his curiosity would not be satisfied by their short conversation.

"Are you here to fix it, whatever it is? Because Dean's just not himself."

Castiel said nothing. He wished he could just make it all better, but even erasing the kiss from Dean's memory would probably not stop the feelings of unrequited... whatever this was. Sam turned from him, knowing he wasn't going to get anything else from the angel.

He flew away to the nearest bar, and sure enough, the Impala was in the parking lot out front. He looked inside to where Dean was sitting at a tall table facing the bar. A woman walked up and her demeanor suggested she was flirting with him. A pang of jealousy shot through Castiel, and before he knew it, he was inside and standing by Dean's side, across the table from the woman.

"Well, if you're not up for some fun, is your friend?" she shot a coy smile to Castiel.

"No, thank you," he declined, and turned to Dean ignoring her dejected reply.

Dean motioned to the bartender for another round. Castiel stared at him while the transaction took place, searching still for a solution, or at least an explanation.

"You here to talk, or are you just gonna stare at me all night?" Dean smirked. He knew what he was doing to Castiel.

The angel exhaled, "This is not easy for me, Dean. Its... distracting." He watched Dean's face fall and decided on another approach. "I'm not supposed to have these feelings. They get in the way of being a warrior. I'm making careless mistakes because my thoughts are often with you when they should be concentrated on making sure Raphael does not win."

Dean looked up from his beer, sadness and a dash of hope hidden under a hard layer. Cas wanted to remove that layer, and fix the interior. Dean needed more than Lisa, more than some one night stand, to piece him together. Castiel had done it once before.

"Cas," Dean started, looking up, away and anywhere but at the angel. "Cas, I'm not expecting you to give up your crusade. Hell, I want nothing more than for the apocalypse to be put on hold permanently." He laughed and took a sip of his beer, deciding he wasn't drunk enough for this. "Look, I'm not expecting to be put first on anyone's list. But I will settle for second on yours. Besides, the war can't go on forever."

Castiel thought there was a slight possibility it could, but at the rate he was losing brothers... But he understood what Dean meant. Dean wanted as much of him as he could have until he could have all of him. "You must understand: I can't always come when you call."

"I'll leave a message."

Castiel actually smiled.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

He's not sure how, but less than a half hour later he's crammed into the back of the Impala with Dean, parked in what can only be assumed as a speed trap off the highway somewhere. Dean is trailing kisses along his jaw and Castiel's massive thought processes are reduced to simple functioning as he lustfully touches every inch of the human he can.

That is until Dean slides his hands south and into Castiel's dress pants. Dean's hands on his cock cease all function possible, and the angel is no longer thinking as he shifts his hips upward to meet the hunter's frantic strokes and panting Dean's name. Castiel tries to reciprocate but his hands instead search for purchase in the hunters hair and grasping at his shirt. Sensations he's not supposed to feel are bursting forth from everywhere. The feelings get more intense the more Dean rubs and tugs at his most sensitive flesh. Dean presses tender kisses along Castiel's neckline as the angel shudders into his first orgasm. Castiel's so far gone he can't understand the whispered words the hunter is saying into his clavicle.

They lie there in the cramped backseat of Dean's baby as Castiel comes down from his high. He starts to reach for the hunter's jeans but Dean batters him away.

"Next time," He says, pressing a kiss below his ear. Dean stays there, draped on top of him like a blanket, wordlessly willing him to stay. A battle he quickly loses as Castiel hears his brothers' call.

"I have to go, Dean," he says, slowly, reluctantly.

Dean groans against him. A sound Castiel does not like hearing. But as long as he has to keep leaving Dean to go fight the good fight, he's going to hear it. He now has a selfish personal reason to end this war quickly, and he whispers an apology as he kisses Dean's forehead and flies off to hopefully do just that.

Another feeling Dean released in him, hope.


End file.
